


Forget, For I Cannot

by sellswordking



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 14:19:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sellswordking/pseuds/sellswordking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Filled for the prompt on the kink meme:</p>
<p>'What if Ori fell to his death in the trees instead of grabbing on to Dori?</p>
<p>The rest of the company is devastated to lose their young and innocent scribe.</p>
<p>Nori blames Dori for not catching him and Dori of course blames himself.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget, For I Cannot

Dori’s toenails were cracked and his blisters had yet to break.  
  
He stared down at his naked foot, every detail burning through his eyes, searing into his mind as if carved there by a blade still hot off the forge.  
  
Sparse hair curled up on top of it, a few on each toe. It was dirty and Dori was sure it was throbbing.  
  
His eyes trailed to look at the boot on his left foot.  
  
It was still there. Brown and laced and with tufts of fur to line it against the elements. inside, he was sure that his other foot would look much the same, or he thought anyway. Perhaps he had no foot beneath that boot anymore, perhaps it was gone. He could not feel the one that he could see, so there was no proof the other one that he could not see was not there.  
  
If his foot had disappeared, Dori would have to wear that boot for the rest of his days.  
  
He could not wear anything on his right foot ever again.  
  
No, his right foot would stay uncovered for the rest of his life. He would step on sharp rocks, he would embrace the cold ice and snow, he would shuffle across every wooden bridge and pick up every parasite, but he would never cover his right foot again.  
  
You arm what deserves protecting. What _needs_ it.  
  
The foot that had killed his precious Ori, that allowed him to fall down to his death over trees and solid ground,  did not deserve such consideration.  
  
And neither did Dori. Not anymore.

\----

Dori looked around the fire that had been built, then into the trees that surrounded them. They . . . how had they gotten there? How had trees come to surround them again, they had been in the air when last he was awake.  
  
Acorns and pebbles hurt his foot as he searched around for his right boot, sure that Ori had hidden it somewhere. The _trouble_ that lad got up to when Fili and Kili were about, Dori would one day manage to get him out of such a habit.  
  
All was quiet, the others mostly nowhere to be found. Dwalin was sitting, his eyes red rimmed, sharpening weapons that looked as if they would wear into fine needle-like points were they slimmed anymore. It would not do them much good to poke simple holes in Smaug, Dori thought, but left the warrior to his silence. Bifur and Bofur looked to be arguing further away from the fire, wild hand motions conveying nothing but the fact that--and even Dori could understand this--Bifur was upset.  
  
“Have you seen my boot? I believe Ori has hidden it.” Dori said on approach, earning twin looks of disbelief and then sorrow and then _pity_ of all things. To think, over a lost boot!  
  
Bofur asked if he needed a seat, and Bifur left with a sign that Dori knew was meant to reference Thorin. How silly they were being.  
  
He shook his head and carried on to the sound of voices.  
  
Kili and Fili were the ones he found next. The lads were holding one another tight, apparently having stopped in the middle of a bath. Fili looked as if he was supporting them both, with Kili having collapsed against him. Quiet sobs drifted on the warm air up to Dori, and he thought it best not to bother them. They had been polite enough not to intrude on the few moments in Rivendell when Ori had been crying into his own and Nori’s shoulders after a nightmare about trolls.  
  
Really, his foot was starting to get quite sore though.  
  
Balin and Gloin returned to camp the same time he had, and Dori gave them a smile. “Ah! Have either of you seen my other boot? Or perhaps Ori; I believe he may be playing a game with me.”  
  
Gloin looked as if he may begin to cry, so Balin was the one to speak first.  
  
“I think it’s best you lie in your bedroll, Dori. Once we can get Nori to you, we will.” His hands were kind, but Dori batted them away. He was the one meant to mother, not be mothered.  
  
“Confound you both, that is not what I asked! Nevermind, I shall find him.” Dori began again, this time past Dwalin, still taking a pair throwing knives to task.  
  
Dori saw Oin first, and then the figure sitting on the ground with the familiar pointed hairstyle peeking out around him. Thorin was standing near, his face bruised far worse than what the orcs had done, his arm wrapped tight in bindings that had been made from a tunic someone must have been wearing.  
  
An odd scene, but Dori did not hesitate to interrupt.  
  
“Nori! How came you by such damage, surely the orcs and their wargs did not do so much to you? I have told you to be _careful_ out here!” Nori looked up at him through one good eye, the other black and bloody. Oin finished wrapping his torso but did not speak, and Thorin did not move. “Where is Ori? He has my boot, I’m sure of it.”  
  
But no answer came.  
  
Only angry stillness. Only bitter tears.  
  
Dori fell to his knees at his brother's side, and Nori embraced him tight enough to make him feel as if he could not breathe. When he spoke, his voice did not raise above a whisper, and the whisper did not hold. “I _must_ get my boot back, Nori, or this shall all be for naught. I-Imagine, a dwarf running barefoot like a h-hobbit; so--so improper and childish. Find Ori for me, please? I _need_  my _boot_.”

In the silence, the last screams of their little brother echoed between them.

  
They did not see Thorin leave with Oin close behind.  
  
They did not see anything for their tears for a very long while.


End file.
